Burning, But Maybe Not?
by anathemaofyggdrasil
Summary: Lance prepares a meal using a fruit quite like Earth peppers. Keith doesn't trust it and Shiro swaps with him. Shiro tries to keep a straight face. Of course it all goes downhill from there.


It didn't _look_ like a pepper. If anything, it resembled a cherry. Dark and red, with a shining, round shape. Lance had assumed it was just another weird space fruit until he stepped on one and the mouth wateringly spicy aroma had drifted up. Medeza was mostly an uninhabited planet, so their brief stop to assist some stranded space-travelers was expected to go quickly even with Hunk's vocalized suspicions.

"Okay, but the _last_ time we tried to help someone, they stole Blue and tried to sell her to the Galra!"

None of them wanted to be tricked again, so they took it cautiously, sending a pair down while the others remained in the upper atmosphere ready to assist. The distress call was exactly that though, and not anything dire enough to require an engineer. Soon enough the ship was on its way again, leaving Lance and Shiro to return to the lions and make their own departure.

It was a lucky thing, really. The day had been too fine to leave his helmet on, a warm sun shining heavily while a sweet breeze blew. It made for a perfect atmosphere and Lance couldn't resist. Taking his helmet off had given Shiro a momentary fit even though the air was just fine to breathe. Dobashes later had come the startling, but oh so thrilling discovery. Lance's excitement had been uncontainable. Shiro's helmet had to be sacrificed to carry as many of the inch-thick fruits as they could. He didn't mind as much as his expression implied.

"Just don't squish any in there, please."

"Don't worry! These babies are precious!"

Three vargas later and a wild search through storage completed, Lance had taken over the kitchen. He wasn't a bad cook, just an inattentive one, but these little spice-balls had visions of home circling in his brain. It had to be just right- or, well, as right as he could get space food. Hunk could help, of course, but the yellow paladin was more familiar with sweeter entrées and so assisted mainly in technique and manual aid. It took time- no _good_ Latino food could be made quickly, but it smelled delicious long before it was ready. Lance didn't comment, for once, but he couldn't help smugly noticing the others drift by periodically. It made him proud, in a warm and vaguely sad kind of way. His thoughts drifted often to his family back on Earth and he wondered, with plenty of grief and a small inkling of dread, if they were okay.

He just didn't want to acknowledge the thought that something could have happened to any member of his large family and he had _no way_ of knowing.

The thoughts were put out of his head as food began to finish cooking and the kitchen erupted into a flurry of activity again. He cooked like his mama, when he tried, with his attention divided to half a dozen things all in various stages of completion. He had something like rice, another thing that smelled sort of like beans, and a spicy shredded meat. He wasn't altogether sure what type of meat it was, but Hunk had picked it up sometime in the last few weeks and frozen forty pounds of it. The false tortillas only occupied ten minutes of Hunk's time. Lance couldn't help but comment.

"Oh _hell_ those look amazing."

By the time everything was ready the table was set in full family fashion and everyone was waiting anxiously. Even Keith! The smug jerk wasn't looking now, but Lance had caught sight of his hopeful eyes. It presented a unique opportunity- one which Lance turned over in his head before deciding to take. Besides, it wouldn't hurt anything. The food would still taste incredible.

He squirted a little bit of extra hot stuff onto Keith's plate before sending it off with Hunk to deliver- along with Allura's and Coran's.

"Do _not_ give it to the princess!" he hissed quietly. He couldn't imagine to mortification he'd feel if she got the hot plate. Hunk looked mildly perturbed at the situation, but settled the plate in front of Keith with only a small stutter. Lance watched, narrow eyed, while he heaped another plate full of food for Hunk to take to the dining table in the next room. The open doorway gave him some cover if Keith were to glance over, but he didn't, just regarded the food with an eager expression and looked up at something Coran was saying.

Perfect.

At the dining table, Keith waited just long enough for Lance to look away. He had excellent peripheral vision, and then cast a quick look at the blue paladin.

 _Way too excited_ , the long-haired man thought, breathing hotly through his nose. He glanced at his plate, wondering if it smelled… Well, did it smell hotter? He couldn't be sure. The entire room had a fiery and rich aroma in it.

He noticed Shiro staring at him and spoke flatly.

"I think it's poisoned."

The sigh he received was a familiar one, but it was Coran who replied.

"The analysis indicates that the- what did you call them? Peppers? Are one hundred percent consumable. In small quantities." He stroked his mustache, leaning down to sniff his plate- and came back up with watery eyes. "A-hem- perhaps- even smaller quantities than this."

Allura, ever the diplomat, maintained an even expression. This mattered to Lance, they all understood that.

"I'm sure it will be delicious," she insisted. Keith could pick up that her voice was slightly forced. Altean cuisine lacked such flare.

He was _not_ going to be deceived though. Something had been done to his plate, he knew it, and he glared at the offending, delicious meal with betrayal. He glared long and hard, trying to confirm without tasting that there was reason to be suspicious. Who knew what Lance had gotten ahold of in there?

He stared long enough that Shiro sighed again and reached over, taking his plate and replacing it with his own as Hunk retreated into the kitchen. Just after their leader settled the plate in question down in front of him, Lance and Hunk arrived, carrying dishes for second helpings to the table.

The meal started, with a lot of amusing gasps from Allura and Coran.

"O-oh my- That's quite-" she grasped her water, trying to drink politely but unable to put the glass down immediately.

Lance stared anxiously, and slightly offended. "It's not too bad, is it?" he asked, double checking that Keith had gotten the right plate. He hadn't made it look any different than the others, but he _should_ be getting about as red as his lion…

Only he wasn't, and the hot-headed paladin continued eating. He even smirked at Lance, whose face drained of blood. He was about to yank Allura's plate away- _how did Keith know dammit!-_ when he caught sight of Shiro.

Oh quiznak.

The man was sitting ramrod straight, his face and throat flushed. Slowly, he raised his water and took one long drink.

Keith raised his brow at Lance, and then looked at Shiro- before straightening too.

"Shiro?" he questioned, the faintest bit of concern on his face.

The black paladin raised a hand, waving the now multitude of eyes off.

"Inhaled a bit of spice," he supplied, and took another determined bite.

Maybe it was because he hadn't eaten decently hot food in a while, but Lance started sweating. It was clear that the food was being enjoyed, even by Allura. Coran was waxing poetry about the robust flavors. Pidge was, like the Alteans, rather red in the face but obviously happy to have something that resembled an Earth food. Hunk had brought a bit of space goo to cool his mouth when it got too hot, and while Lance wasn't sure about the tastes mixing, it seemed to be working for the big guy.

He glared shortly at Keith, but his attention was quickly drawn back to Shiro, who was valiantly trying to tough the situation out.

"Uh- Shiro? If it's too hot for you…" Lance started, hesitant to mention anything. The broad-shouldered man was looking a little rough though. Like… Tears gathering in his eyes. The red across his face was almost a unified color, except for where his scar broke it up.

"No, no, it's great Lance," Shiro spoke with a rasp, cleared his throat, and visibly forced another forkful of the meat into his mouth. His face was tight, like he wanted to frown but wouldn't allow it. Lance felt like rescuing the poor guy from himself, but now it had become a matter of pride. He understood that. Poor Shiro- and stupid Keith! This was all his fault!

Lance settled back into his own plate, looking back to Shiro in-between conversation. Their leader was usually quiet at dinner, preferring to let the others do the talking, and that worked out well for him now…

It was when reached for his own water that he became intimately aware of a searing gaze flaying across his arm. He had leaned… Ever so slightly… Behind Hunk, in order to avoid Keith's gaze. It was a miracle that nothing had yet been said, and one that Lance was eager to keep going. He didn't want to piss Shiro off! It hadn't even been _meant_ for him. But Keith's gaze was, at that moment, burning such a hole in Lance's sleeve that he just had to see what he looked like.

So he leaned forward, slowly… And met the most outraged purple-blue eyes he'd ever seen. Keith looked ready to leap across the table and bite his throat out, and Lance was absolutely _trapped_. Mullet-head's lips were pulled down, and his nose was kind of scrunched up and twitching at the bridge.

All hell broke loose when Keith's plate went flying, too quick for Lance to process. The plate slapped his face, food flying messily before clattering down to the table below.

Lance's ensuing screech of horror and pain followed.

" _OH MY GOD KEITH!"_

" _MY EYES! MY EYES!"_

Shiro leapt up but inhaled what was in his mouth as he did, and just as quickly as Lance's screaming had started he was coughing and dropping back into his chair, reaching desperately for his water. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as his furious gaze landed on the half-Galra, and Keith bristled.

"He spiked my plate! And you ate it!", he growled, dancing away as Lance flailed out a punching arm. The Cuban boy was still shrieking, curses in English but mostly Spanish aimed directly at Keith.

"That was a very irresponsible thing to do!" Allura cried, standing. Hunk had grabbed Lance and helped him sit down- his eyes were going all puffy and his face was red. Lance fumbled a hand across the table until he found his glass of water and poured it onto his own face.

Pidge was cackling in delight, her ribs aching with how hard she was laughing. She should have known how this would go, but her predictions hadn't even come close to the real thing.

Keith, already standing, moved over to Shiro.

"Look what he did!" he snapped back, pulling the taller man's cybernetic arm around his shoulders. Shiro was too busy coughing to scold him, let alone stand.

Though he did manage to speak.

"You," violent coughing interrupted him, "I can't- even- hot-"

Suffice it to say, none of them finished the meal, but no one would forget it.

…Much to Lance's complete joy, Keith took all the heat for throwing the plate, even if he hadn't tasted it.

Until Shiro pulled his helmet on in a rush the next day and discovered that, yes, the pepper stench had indeed saturated the entire interior.


End file.
